I don’t fly away

Besides the pale woman who had appeared like a phantom, Merel had yet to see any other wolves. She caught their scents now and then, mingled with the fog and sea spray, but so far they had not troubled her.

She did not care why. They kept their distance, and Merel kept hers.

This bleak place was nothing like that warm golden sanctuary. Even the very rock was darker, sheer rough slabs that rose up from the sea. Ancient sprawling trees stretched unhindered by drought or flame towards the sky. These shores were honest about their true nature. That much, Merel respected.

Her scrapes and bruises troubled her less. She tried not to disturb her injured shoulder, though often she still slipped with a yelp of pain on the cold damp rocks. Hunting would be out of the question for a long time yet. Once, she had been as lively and agile as a songbird. Once, she had been quick and clever, never to be caught in Men’s traps or tricked by wolves. Now she scavenged among rotting kelp and sun-bleached driftwood like a starving whelp.

She dug through the sea’s discarded offerings now, tugging seaweed apart in search of something to eat. It was in this state that another stranger would find her, this one’s coat divided into dark and light. Merel lifted her head to observe her, unflinching and uncaring. She had nothing left to lose but her life, and that no longer frightened her.

“Come to finish me off?” Merel asked her dryly.

---

@Bly
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Soaked in blood and brine, the woman came from the waves. Her voice could lure a man to his death. Perhaps a Merel, too, though she at least had the advantage of not being male. Ha.

A bitter laugh escaped her own jaws, harsh and short. She cut off at her words: you’re not finished yet. No, indeed. The Lord had not seen fit to grant her His mercy.

She decided she didn’t want it anyway.

Merel stared at the proffered food for only a moment. The smell of the fish was too rich, too alluring, and she dug in violently. Teeth tearing, ripping, snout smeared with blood and scales. She did not ask why it had been so freely given, nor what the stranger would ask in return.

After a few mouthfuls, Merel finally paused. She did not thank her saviour. Instead, she looked up at her with hazel eyes that burned in her hollowed-out face.

“Who are you?” Merel asked her in a rough, hoarse voice. “And what do you want, if not my corpse?”
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